Marisa Kirisame, the Ordinary Witch, was kneeling above her client’s naked waist, her skirt hitched up to her belly. A tense, giddy grin busied the bottom half of her face. All the same, Marisa kept it as bright as the stars – for both her client’s benefit and her own – as she reached below to wrap her hand around the boy’s stiff, upright member. The oily salve, which she had poured all over the penis moments before, caused her grip to slip down the thick shaft. There was a sharp intake of breath when the boy’s foreskin was peeled back, and the side of Marisa’s palm bumped into his crotch.
And then, an even sharper one – when she hooked the thumb of her free hand under her panties and tucked them to the side, revealing her bare slit.
Marisa scuffed forward on her knees, stretching herself open, angling her client’s tool at her opening. It was as her warm petals began to slide around his slippery glans that he voiced his creeping doubt.
“Ah. Um… Miss Marisa?”
The Ordinary Witch paused, at once too horny not to feel a tug of annoyance and feeling way too excited to let it show. She grinned down at the flustered boy. “Yeah? What’s up?”
Her young client’s gaze fluttered between her face and the soft, warm place he was about to enter. “Is this… um, really necessary?”
Marisa eyed her client with all the mock exasperation of an herbalist inquired whether nettle soup could sting one’s tongue. All the sixteen or seventeen years of worldliness her client could muster eyed her back. He was a hunk, no mistake; Marisa couldn’t take that away from him. Fieldwork did that to boys. And yet, it would seem the same thing that had so deliciously bulked out his arms and chest had also sapped away at his wits.
The same may not be said of his hard, lubed-up dick… which twitched in her hold, more and more impatient the longer it kept kissing her lower lips without actual insertion. Marisa rubbed its tip up and down along her moist slit as she addressed her hesitant client.
“You—” she began to say. “… What’d you say your name was?”
“Um. Tarou, miss. You’ve asked me already. Thrice.”
“Tarou-boy,” granted Marisa, honestly uncaring whether she had. “What is this, remind me, what we’re doing right now?”
Tarou blinked. “… Um. My after-youkai-attack care?”
“Which your parents were kind ‘nough to pay off up front and even leave us the house until we’re done. And you say you wanna stop?”
“N—Not stop,” whined the boy. “Only… I’d thought—”
“Tarou-boy,” chided Marisa. “You were kidnapped by a Tengu female while taking a stroll in the forest, yeah?”
“And she took you to her cabin up on the Goddesses’ Mount and made you plough ‘er. Yeah?”
The boy Tarou began to shake his head, panic settling in. Then, he faced down the futility of lying to a seasoned youkai exterminator… who happened, also, to be gripping a delicate part of his body. “… Yeah,” he gave up. “Yeah. She told me to strip, then… then licked and sucked on me till I got up. Stripped down, too, afterwise. Stuck out her rear. Told me to… to ‘screw her cunt silly.’ Said she’d gouge my eyes out for the crows if I finished before her.”
Tarou’s brows took on an appropriately dismayed crook – even if, down below, the head of his erection throbbed between Marisa’s petals at the memory of being stuffed inside a rutting Tengu’s swollen pussy. The Ordinary Witch wrested down the urge to comfort it inside her snug, human one. For now. For now, she continued to drill the big-dicked youth.
“And, did ya?” she asked. “Screw ‘er silly?”
A blush worked up from Tarou’s jaw to warm up his cheeks. “… Um. Yeah. I put my… my dick inside her and kind of pumped her, trying to think of something else. Tengu lady must’ve been on the edge, because she came a few minutes afterwise. Screamed up a storm, wet herself all over the floor… then fell right asleep. So, I, uh… I wrapped up on my end, pulled on my trousers, and scarpered.”
Marisa sniggered, the mental image of this bumbling boy polishing himself off with an unconscious Tengu’s pussy too ridiculous to even turn her on.
“And have you told your parents ‘bout that part?”
Tarou’s cheeks went from maroon to a shade reserved only for the head of a penis that’s about to spurt all over a girl’s face. “N—No. They think I was kidnapped by a youkai. That’s all.”
“Good thing they called me, then.”
‘Cause, thought Marisa, your dick and I are gonna have a lotta fun together. “‘Cause, bucko,” she said aloud, “the Tengu? They’re snakes. Give ‘em a chance, and they’ll lay a curse smack dab on you. And with that in mind, tell me: have you jerked it yet since you came back?”
Tarou’s eyes went wide as saucers. “Wha—” He coughed. “Why?!”
“You screwed a Tengu, Tarou-boy,” Marisa reminded him sweetly. There was another shameless throb where her pussy lips were half-wrapped around the boy’s slippery glans. Marisa couldn’t wait to feel how hard it would throb once he was fully inside her. “Mhm. Yeah. Your prick could be chock fulla curses – and you’d never know till you went up to the hay loft to fool around with your girlfriend.”
“I—I don’t have a—” the boy started to say, somewhat defensively.
“Your right hand, then,” offered Marisa. “Any place you stuff it, bucko, havin’ sex with youkai is bad for you. And that’s what the ointment’s for, see?” Here, the Ordinary Witch extended a thumb to rub it on the side of Tarou’s sturdy shaft. The warm lotion clung to her skin, as if trying to glue his dick and her hand together. “Coconut oil, a pinch o’ kava,” Marisa explained. “Works a miracle on curses. Cured a guy of impotence, once. Some arse-for-face kitsune reckoned it’d be funny. All we need to do, Tarou-boy… is make damn sure it’s spread all nice and evenly. Miss a spot, see, and the curse’ll but fade – then kick back in later, full force. We need to smother it completely first time. Get it, now?”
“Yes!” gasped the boy. “Yes, but, do we need to do it with—” His eyes flashed to where Marisa’s pussy was poised to swallow his dripping hard-on. “… Must it be in here? Miss Marisa?”
Marisa feigned a touch of surprise. “Where else better?”
“You could’ve done it with your hands!” spluttered Tarou. “O—Or mouth! This is—”
“Ah, so you wanted a blowjob.” Marisa tut-tutted. “Naughty, naughty. At least ask the girl out on a date ‘fore you ask her to suck you off, will ya?” When Tarou set his jaw, she offered up a conciliatory grin. “Ah, truth is, bucko, kava don’t taste too good. And, anyhow, I’ve none dimmest how the mix’ll react to saliva. So, my mouth’s outta the question. As for my hands—” Marisa slowly glided her hand up and down the boy’s trapped shaft. There was a brief, delicious tensing of the whole thing when her fingers passed a spot that must have felt really good. “… I ain’t given to precision work,” cautioned Marisa. “Always use a brush or reed pen at home. Want me to scratch this handsome prick all over with a sharp piece of wood? Nah, didn’t think so. ‘Sides,” she added, slyly, “it’s two birds with one stone, bucko.”
Tarou looked none too convinced. “… It is?”
Yeah, Marisa thought, tongue flashing out to wet her lips, I’ll get to feel what it’d be like to have this dick knocking me up. “That curse I done mentioned?” she volunteered for the boy’s limitless suspicion. “What you mighta gotten from the Tengu bitch? Well, bucko, like as not, it’d be the kind what they get you with. See? They curse you, so you can no longer get it up. You ain’t gettin’ it up, can’t jerk off, your girlfriend’s growin’ mad as a hatter… So, you go out to find what done cursed you in the first place. Turns out, you can only now pop a boner if it’s with a Tengu. So, they take you along to their village up on the ‘Mount as a sort of matin’ slave… and that’s the last your folks ever see of you. Includin’ that girlfriend.”
Her blushing client peered to where the Ordinary Witch was bullying his penis with long, teasing strokes. “… I’m, um, plenty hard right now.”
“‘Cause of the salve,” countered Marisa. “You got all stiff when I poured it on, no?”
“Um. Yeah.” Tarou’s incredulity dimmed in his voice. “I did, huh. Hng.”
“And you say you ain’t even tried to wank it ‘fore today?”
“And that’s why, see—” Marisa struck on, releasing the boy’s hard-on and laying both her sticky hands flat on his stomach. “You and I’re both humans, yeah? So, if I’ve rubbed the salve in and you’re still nice an’ hard inside me… That’ll mean it’s worked for sure. See?”
The boy Tarou, who by now was redder than a beet, weighed Marisa’s sound rationale against his reluctance to let an older girl play doctor with his dick. The added weight of her pussy bearing down on the vulnerable crown of said dick, however, tipped his mental scales toward the more fun end. Slowly, with pronounced concession, Tarou’s chin was bobbed up and down in tacit agreement.
“… Ah. Miss Marisa?” he added, halting the Ordinary Witch for one more moment before she dropped her hips. “One thing.”
“Mhm? What is it, bucko?”
“What if I…” Marisa’s client grew somehow half a shade redder yet. “… What if I come inside you?”
Marisa’s chest fluttered, the sheer idea behind the words slamming into her belly like a bullet made of arousal. A powerful urge to beg the boy to do just that threatened briefly to overflow her mental dams. A few furious heartbeats later, and the Ordinary Witch threw a rein on her horny fantasies.
“… Ah, try not to?” she proposed, with arch humour. “This’s after-youkai-care – not sex. Yeah? Though, if you do, no biggie. It ain’t a dangerous day or anythin’.”
That had been but half a lie.
It was a very dangerous day.
Marisa had it on meticulous calculation that today was the most fertile day of her cycle; a single creampie was liable to get her pregnant with the boy’s child. Although, Tarou may never know this – not less he stole into Marisa Kirisame’s shop in the dead of the Forest of Magic, and leafed through the somewhat foxed notebook wherein the Ordinary Witch – at times with dread, at times with relief – marked down the days until her next period. That he fairly hadn’t – otherwise, he would never have agreed – was much to the good, because Marisa had no intention of ending it at just one creampie.
Assured of her purely medicinal persuasion, Tarou relaxed beneath her. Marisa smiled coquettishly, before asking her client:
“You ready, stud?”
Tarou’s attention, however, was affixed below, where remarkably sex-like – yet allegedly non-sexual – after-care was about to take place. “… Yeah,” he murmured, “ready.”
At was then, at long last, that Marisa Kirisame lowered her hips and let her drooling pussy slide down the boy’s waiting erection.
After so much waiting, the sensation of his glans spreading her lower lips was enough to give her a small, stomach-clenching orgasm. Coconut oil, which Marisa had applied liberally to the boy’s sturdy manhood, paved the way for the rest of it; soon, and the long shaft began to disappear between her slick petals – each vein and bump teasing her as it passed through. Marisa paused, moaning under her breath, when the hard tip of the cock, not at all on accident, nudged her G-spot. The Ordinary Witch, feigning no excuse, lifted her hips – then sank again for another prod. That time, when her vagina squeezed around the top third of Tarou’s stiff tool, she distinctly felt a glob of precum pumping up his shaft. It joined Marisa’s juices and the coconut oil in a lewd, slippery concoction that was only pushed deeper inside her as her pussy travelled down the length of Tarou’s dick.
Anxious for her prize, the Ordinary Witch completed the descent in one, smooth go – only permitting to herself a sigh of satisfaction once she was effectively seated atop her nude client, and the bare head of his penis was pressed up lovingly against her womb. Marisa needn’t peer down to see the mess of oil and pussy juice she had made in Tarou’s lap; she needn’t to undo her top to know her pink, perky nipples were harder than rock candy. The thick, robust cock that had made a rutting Tengu cum in mere minutes was hilted inside her barely experienced pussy – and making her head swim.
Gasping, swallowing down of the room’s coconut-scented air, Marisa gazed down at the boy with whom she was now, irrevocably, having raw, adulterous sex.
This had never been her idea.
Reimu. It had been Reimu’s.
After she and Reimu had entered a not-wholly-witting union with a bunch of animal spirits in the Wily Beast incident, something had gone very much awry with their bodies. As an alchemist of some success, Marisa had long devised methods of dealing with her womanly problems; bleeding, headaches and mood swings associated with that natural, female function were at best a mild annoyance to she who knew the right recipes. And yet, the weeks which had preceded Marisa’s that-time-of-the-month had been a youkai short of a nightmare. What had always been a fortnight of mild, if benign, distraction had been turned into evenings when Marisa had to quit her house to stop her fingers fiddling with her privates. And even then, often, it had done nothing to prevent her finding a nice, secluded place to give her needy insides some desperate relief.
When, though, she had complained of this to Reimu, her lifelong friend had shrugged it off – citing “her own way” of handling the monthly hormone rush. What Reimu’s “own way” had comprised, Marisa hadn’t been allowed to learn; not, anyway, until a few days afterwards, when she would run into Reimu leaving the home of a client who had of late come under attack by a vicious yuki-onna. That’d never have been very remarkable; both the Ordinary Witch and the Hakurei shrine maiden had been in business of providing youkai assault after-care for years. Only, Marisa’s trained, alchemist’s nose had alerted her to something else.
That Reimu’s breath had positively reeked of semen.
Small wonder, then, that the tight-lipped shrine maiden had left the stunned witch to be stunned, while she herself hurried off to her next job. Smaller wonder yet, that Marisa Kirisame had followed hot on her best friend’s trail. A feat of dexterity later, and the witch would be peeking in through the window of the house Reimu’s next assignment had taken her inside.
Across the remainder of that afternoon, Marisa would become wised up to several facts. One: that her friend and rival since childhood had a pair of tits which, beside Marisa, made the Ordinary Witch look more like a Little Prince. Two: that, for a fair compensation, Hakurei Reimu would go to her knees and give her client the sloppiest, most obscene blowjob Marisa had ever seen (not that she’d seen many, but… there was something to say for it when the client’s precum would go as far as to end up in Reimu’s cleavage). Three: that it would take two more such “assignments” before Reimu would finally deign to strip her panties and get fucked for real.
Marisa may still picture it: her best friend, bent over and propped against a wall. Vest ridden up to her chin. Those plump tits dangling freely below. The sharp noise of her client’s hips crashing into her butt. Reimu’s strangled, ecstatic moans from having her pussy stuck on the man’s long, curved cock. Marisa had come no less than twice, fingering herself while watching her friend get screwed; Reimu, meanwhile… it was difficult to tell. Suffice to say, that after she had quit the client’s house, her knees had been so weak, the shrine maiden had to stop and lean on lantern-posts to rest them every fifty paces.
Marisa wondered to this day what her best friend would’ve said had she ever heard that the same client had inexplicably been waited on by two youkai hunters in the same evening. Or that a certain Ordinary Witch was now the proud owner of a bra that a certain Hakurei shrine maiden had forgotten to put back on after getting her itch scratched.
Since then, “after-care” and “compensation” had taken on a hush, lascivious undertone in their conversations. Marisa rather suspected Reimu knew she was fucking her clients, as well as that Marisa knew Reimu was getting fucked by hers; neither of them, however, had outright admitted it. There’d been looks and oblique remarks on the state of each other’s underwear – but never more. It had lent the whole affair an air of taboo and mystique, which Marisa had found insidiously exciting.
All of which had led her here. Atop a nice boy, no older than seventeen, whose worried parents had hired her to ascertain their son was fine, but whom Marisa was now using to plug up her horny pussy. The boy himself, at least, seemed everything but disappointed – staring down at where Marisa’s pink, tight labia were strapped around the meaty base of his dick, and struggling to contain his amazement.
Marisa, a sweet smile tweaking her lips, nudged her hips forward, then back again – causing the boy’s cock to settle into a new, even more comfortable position inside her oil-slick pussy. When she sat straighter, the sensation of his stiffness grinding her front wall almost made her forget all about restraint. Marisa controlled her urges with difficulty.
“Mm… Tarou-boy?” she addressed her innocent client. “Afore we start on your treatment, stud… You’ve got a great cock.”
Her client’s eyes startled to her face, where they found nothing except bright, perverted glee. “… Um,” he ventured. “Your… Yours is great, too. It’s cramped, but… it fits like a glove. A—Am I all the way in, miss Marisa? Where I’m touching, is that your…?”
“Mhm.” Marisa’s smile widened. “It’s really a perfect fit, huh. To the inch.”
“Uh-huh. Yeah. It’s great.”
For the minute in following, the witch and the boy marvelled quietly at their unexpected compatibility. From time to time, Marisa would feel Tarou’s cock twinge and gush more precum into her already flooded depths. None of it escaped down below; Marisa’s pussy lips were gripping the boy’s shaft so tightly they formed a seal – keeping the sexual fluids and coconut oil firmly contained. Marisa thrilled imagining what would happen if Tarou were to come inside her right then.
No, no, no, the Ordinary Witch reminded herself. Not yet. Formalities first. Cover your bases, Marisa.
“Mm. Well, Tarou-boy?” she cooed down at him. “What’d you reckon?”
Tarou and his cock startled together, the first – bucking slightly underneath Marisa, the latter – enjoying a short bounce up and down her pussy walls. “Ah, er. Um. Well—” he sputtered. “It’s… It feels amazing; way better than that Tengu lady. It’s so wet and so warm, and you’re so cute, and—”
“Ah-ah, Tarou-boy,” chided Marisa. “Thank you, but not that. Get your mind outta the gutter, huh? I meant the salve. Have we got it everywhere, d’you think?”
There was, at first, no reply. And then, at second, Tarou’s eyes narrowed… proving, above everything, that naiveté was not an inseparable domain of young men.
“… Miss Marisa?” said the boy, almost reproachful. “This isn’t treatment, is it? This is sex.”
Marisa’s heart hammered in her throat; and yet, ahead she could muster a response, Tarou stole the initiative it by locking his hands around her nude waist.
“There’s no Tengu curse like that,” went on the boy, “is there, miss Marisa? I don’t think so. My parents hired you, but you’ve not told them nothing about curses. That came up only afterwise, when I told you what happened. And why’d you have this oil on you? It isn’t for medicine, plain as plain. I think, miss Marisa, that you’re like that Tengu lady. You met me, fell in love with me, and wanted to have sex.”
And then, as though to further prove his right, the strapping young man hauled Marisa’s hips forward: extracting his hard cock to half-point, then slamming it back into her squirming, overstuffed pussy. Marisa had to slap a palm over her mouth not to give away how much she’d loved it – or that she wanted him to do it again. And harder.
Tarou watched her poorly controlled reactions with the marked look of a boy who had solved a puzzle piece none of his friends or family ever could. The Ordinary Witch joined his smug gaze in a silent danmaku match of need versus chipped pride.
“Am I right, miss Marisa?” he wanted to know.
( ) “… Clever boy.” ( ) This was a treatment – and didn’t he forget it.
And pride was feeble solace beside that thick cock skewering her pussy. Marisa squeezed out a grin and a giggle – both a greater effort than they should have been, in the wake of the boy’s sudden, rough thrust. Her stomach was still fluttering. A persistent tingle behind her stiff-tipped breasts made breathing its own exercise.
“Nnh… Mm. Yeah, that’s right,” Marisa admitted, staring down Tarou’s vainglorious face. “This’s sex. You’re buck naked, and the tip of your cock is kissin’ my womb. ‘Course it’s sex at this point. And I’d not have had it another way.”
Tarou was not to be dissuaded with stark honesty alone. “Then I’m right?” he insisted. “You’re in love with me? That’s why the ‘treatment?’”
Marisa chortled – in earnest this time, and with no small damage to the boy’s expression. “Ahh, youth,” she sighed. “No, bucko, your parents did hire me, fair’n’all. I’ve not fallen for you. Tough luck. Once ya skinned those pants, though, and I saw what you were packin’ there… Knew it had to be amazin’ if that Tengu bitch chose you. Those never come so near the town without they scent somethin’ nice.”
Tarou’s mouth soured at the retroactive implications. “So, that Tengu smelled my…?”
“Youth, vigour, ki,” corrected Marisa. “Could be, if you were backed-up. ‘S why she nabbed ya… presumably, ‘nyhow.”
A dark cloud slid behind the boy’s eyes, as if the Tengu in question herself had just rejected him. A ray of hope knifed through when he addressed the witch currently riding his stiff manhood. “… And you, miss Marisa?”
Marisa shaped a wide grin. “Ah, I’m takin’ advantage of the situation, is all. I’ll purge and ward ya, no worries. It’s jus’, when I heard your side of the story, and saw that gorgeous prick of yours… I had to see how it would feel inside me.” The Ordinary Witch brushed her fingertips down the boy’s toned abdomen, up the stubble-covered base of his dick, and then around the firm nub of her clitoris. With two fingers on either side, she peeled back its loose hood; with a third, she began to flick the stiff protrusion left and right. A delicious, toe-curling judder clamped her pussy walls around Tarou’s invading cock. “Nnha, haa… Nn. Witch pussies, you see,” she told her stupefied boy-toy, “get really, really, haah, nngh… really lonely, y’know? A witch has to get screwed, nhh, nice an’ hard… at least ten times a month. Or else, hfff… else, she’ll go madder’n a fairy in a basement. An’ did you know somethin’, bucko?”
Marisa jerked her hand away from her hard, sensitive nub. Then, making a grab for one of Tarou’s knees, she leaned back, and spread her legs wide – displaying the place where his cock was sheathed balls-deep inside her.
“This pussy,” the Ordinary Witch announced, “ain’t been fucked even once this month.”
And that had been another lie. Since her latest cycle had reared its horny head, Marisa had already had sex thrice. Once, with the victim of a fairy’s prank – whom she’d quietly comforted with her pussy while his wife had been busy at the stove downstairs. Once more, with a town herbalist – to whom Marisa had delivered a shipment of love elixir, and which the man had absolutely to trial on the nearest woman (Marisa) ahead he’d even agreed to haggle. And then, a third time – with a man who had, embarrassingly, turned out to be a recent friend of her father. The ageing, jovial, somewhat portly bachelor had approached the Ordinary Witch claiming a young kitsune had laid a curse upon his lower body. Only later, afterwards Marisa had followed him home, and proven beyond the palest shade of a doubt the man hadn’t been mystically rendered impotent, had he revealed this truth. Although, since he had already come inside her twice, and been in the middle of giving her the best finger-bang of her life as he’d confessed his duplicity, the Ordinary Witch had acquiesced to three more rounds of free creampie sex in order to keep his mouth shut.
When she’d at last got home that night, for no reason but to feel safer, the Ordinary Witch would down a double dose of the contraceptive kava tonic she had used to peddle on the quiet to careless townswomen. And then, she would scribble a mental note to prepare even more in advance if… or, really, for when she let her dad’s friend play with his wayward daughter’s body again.
Marisa shuddered out of the memory of the old man egging her on with his fingers wiggling inside her cum-smeared pussy. Tarou’s hearty dick was now in their place; and, while nowhere near so nimble, the full, tight sensation of it plumping out her belly all the way up to her womb almost offset the lack of direct assault on her special spots. Marisa from before the animal spirit possession would have thought twice before turning down this kind of pleasure; Marisa of now wanted nothing less than to take the boy home and use him like an erotic chair all night long.
Under the circumstances, however, the Marisa of now would also have to settle for a course of regular impregnation sex. Tarou’s parents would not be gone forever, and walking in on a youkai hunter riding half-naked atop their son was not, the Ordinary Witch had to imagine, high up on their Tanabata wish tree. Nor was the boy himself without his own ideas.
A pleasant shiver ran up and stiffened Marisa’s back when Tarou slid his large hands from her waist to her slim thighs – hooking his thumbs under her rearranged panties along the way. Soaked in slick coconut oil, the dark, chiffon underwear – which Marisa had purchased and worn especially to get fucked in – clung to her bare skin. Tarou drew the panties completely to the side, unveiling the heart-shaped patch of blond pubic hair on Marisa’s groin.
“… Witches are so naughty,” he observed. “Aren’t they?”
“Mm. I ‘unno,” giggled Marisa. “Only know two or three. This’s more of a… a youkai extermination catch. There’s a lotta stress in the job that has to go someplace, see? An’ when we’re called to tend to knockouts like you—” Marisa walked her fingers up the boy’s firm, toned stomach. “… That can get mighty frustratin’. We’re girls, too… y’know?”
“Other… youkai hunters are like this?” asked Tarou, slowly.
Marisa flashed him a nasty look. “Want to fuck Reimu too?”
Tarou’s eyes blinked in surprise, yet the head of his cock briefly pushing up harder against Marisa’s cervix was its own, unwitting answer. “The—The Hakurei?” he stuttered out. “I—I wasn’t… I hadn’t meant—”
“Ah, ‘s fine, bucko,” cooed Marisa. “Reimu may act the devil when she’s on the job, but she’s been doin’ this after-care thingy long as me. I ‘unno if she’d screw you, less you were her type, but she loves givin’ head. Saw her blow a guy for half an hour straight once upon a time. Tell you what: you ever get bullyragged by a youkai again, ask for Reimu. Get the two of yous alone, and then show ‘er that handsome prick. You’ll be hittin’ her tonsils ‘fore your pants’re halfway down. And, who knows? Might be you’ll get lucky and get ‘er to use her tits, too.”
Tarou’s stare turned just a tad wishful. “… Miss Reimu would do that?”
“Good things come to boys who ask,” said Marisa, paraphrasing what her dad’s friend had. Casually advertising her best friend’s breasts had its own, wicked appeal; Marisa, however, had something even better in store for her client. A trip up and down her warm pussy walls, with a nice, happy finish in her fertile womb. “That’s that, though. Another time, bucko. Today, you’re screwin’ the witch. An’, I dare say, you’ve made her wait enough. Y’know,” she added with a smirk, “Reimu’d spread you across the wall if you jus’ kept ‘er caught like this without actually fucking her for so long.”
Tarou looked turned on. Then, he managed to looked contrite instead. “Um. Sorry. It’s… It feels so nice, I kind of don’t want it to end. A—And I was thinking—” the words tumbled from the boy’s tongue, it seemed, precluding his head altogether, “that, since you were way cuter than miss Reimu, that I wanted to… I’d rather it were you next time, too. And if you can’t – then I’d like to stay like this a little longer today. Please?”
Marisa smacked him on the flank – even if the compliment had made her break out in a grin. “Aw, that’s nice,” she granted; “and my pussy doesn’t want to let you go, either, but… No dice. I need this. I need to feel that cock movin’. There ain’t been a thing I needed badder than that right now. I’ll let you take me out on a date later, the full course, so why don’t we get you pumpin’ my baby room full – before your parents come back and I lose my witchin’ mind?”
Something passed behind the boy’s saucer-wide eyes, which Marisa was positive she would either come to rue… or enjoy immensely. “… So,” he said after a moment. “This is a treatment. For you.”
And it was fast proving to be the latter. “Mm. Clever boooy,” she all but purred. “That’s right. This’s a treatment, Tarou-boy. Always was. A treatment where you take that awesome cock and rub my achin’ pussy all over to make it better. An’ then, if you want… put your sticky medicine inside. As deep as you like. I promise I won’t complain. Treat me as you will.”
“Then—” Tarou began.
And then, rather startling the petite Ordinary Witch, her youthful client heaved himself up to a sit. All of a sudden, Marisa found she had been shifted from looming above the adolescent boy, to being seated in his lap, with nothing except his broad, naked chest filling out her sight. What her surprise had ruined by causing her to flinch back, it was fixed once Tarou had gripped the witch’s ample buttocks (about the only ample part of her, really), and pushed her back down his thick, oiled-up manhood. It bottomed out as smoothly as if it had never left.
That one touch of manhandling – together with the penetration – was enough to cause the Ordinary Witch to swoon. Tarou’s chest showed itself to be apt support when Marisa braced herself against it with both hands and her sweat-sheened forehead. Silently, she thanked the thankless gods of harvest for doing their devotees at least this service. It was all Marisa could do, to cover her face and try her damnedest not to breathe in the boy’s warm, pheromone-laced smell. That, she feared, would have removed all remaining shackles of self-control from her brain.
“Then,” came the boy’s voice from above, “I want to treat you in another position, miss Marisa.”
Outmatched in height by more than a head, even while seated, Marisa had to crane her neck to peer up at the boy’s ruddy, yet determined face. “… What—” she managed to say, “nnhh, oh boy… What’d you have in mind, stud?”
There was a hesitant, greedy pause. “… Like the Tengu lady.”
“Haah. Someone discovered a fetish, huh?”
“I mean… Worked for her.”
The Ordinary Witch tittered. “… Jester. Pervert.”
“I’m not jesting, miss Marisa,” insisted the boy.
“I know,” she assured him. “That’s what makes this so hot, Tarou-boy. I love an honest boy.”
And, she didn’t add, an honest boy with nice muscles a dick that made her feel this good went another mile still. It was a mile that took Marisa Kirisame, the youkai exterminator, into a realm where she weighed options she would never have under different circumstances. Atop the boy, twisting and grinding her hips, would have been her choice a few minutes before; now, Marisa had a taste for something that would leave her pussy the same sodden, semen-dripping mess… but flip the arrangement somewhat.
She considered, with not a little thrill of treachery, what Reimu would have done in her shoes.
( ) Get fucked like a bitch in heat. ( ) No way she’d miss out on getting mating-pressed under that bod. ( ) Write-in. Surprise me. Seriously.
This choice is about what Reimu would do were she in Marisa's shoes right now, not what Marisa wants to happen to her (although I suspect they're going to end up being one and the same). So bearing this in mind:
[x]Get pinned between the wall and a hard cock, with her legs wrapped around him.
If it were Marisa, she'd probably be facing away instead to let him slam his hips onto her butt.
Nor had she to strain her thinkin’ muscles much to imagine what Reimu would. Reimu would never stoop to do the heavy lifting herself; Reimu would stand beside the bed – arms folded under that hefty bust – and hurl abuse at her partner for believing even for a moment that he would be presented a free ride to a creampie. Ignoring her own, overflowing arousal; discounting how happily she had been sucking on his dick moments before. Until the straw that broke the donkey’s back. Until he also stood – causing the haughty shrine maiden to back, in fright, up under the nearest wall. And then, with her cute butt pressed against it, she would only stare on with disgust as her partner gripped one of those sleek thighs of hers, hoisted it up, angled the head of his cock at the sopping entrance of her precious place… and pushed it in.
Stuck between the wall and the man’s powerful hips, with nowhere to escape but farther down his shaft, it would be all Reimu could do to grit her teeth and glare… up to the point where the stiff cock bottomed out and her pussy was shuddering in delight around its girth.
Marisa hadn’t to embellish the picture altogether too much, because she had seen Reimu get fucked in precisely that way. That day, the same she had been spying on her best friend marching from house to house, providing “care” for her clients – and, rather markedly, not too long before Reimu would be bent over with her hands on a wall and fucked doggy-style, her shockingly large, teardrop-shaped tits swinging back and forth with every womb-deep thrust. Meanwhile, outside the window, Marisa had been biting the rim of her hiked-up dress – furiously pumping her middle and ring fingers in and out of her own, swollen and needy pussy and dripping sticky girl-lube onto the flowerbed. At once desperate to keep hush and itching to hit her good spots at the same time Reimu had been getting hers, the Ordinary Witch couldn’t quite keep pace with her busty friend – who, going by the ecstatic expression and the drool hanging from a corner of her mouth, had been having way more fun with the man’s arched cock than Marisa could by herself. And so, when Reimu had hung her head, and her thighs had begun to tremble in a muffled, but unmistakeable orgasm, Marisa may only swear – hook her fingers – and start digging their tips into that one, very special area of her then still virgin pussy.
Once Reimu’s client had yanked his waist away from the shrine maiden’s trembling rear, the sight of his hard cock – slathered in precum and Reimu’s juices, plopping out of her best friend’s loose, wet pussy – had brought Marisa over the edge. Collapsing to her knees, caution all but lost in the explosion of bliss from her womanly parts, the Ordinary Witch had gasped and fought to stay quiet while she squirted uncontrollably all over the man’s poor, unoffending flowers. Of the many orgasms she would still enjoy that evening, that one would by need fade quickly – because Reimu had lost no time in shoving her client back onto the bed and forcefully mounting the cock she had so adamantly refused to service not that long before. Marisa would, faced with that circumstance, swallow down her afterglow, prop her chin on the windowsill, and resume to stick her fingers inside herself in voyeuristic glee. A round of passionate, tit-bouncing, come-inside cowgirl sex later – plus a second squirting climax for Marisa – and the shrine maiden would weakly announce the end of pre-paid time. And though a few coaxing words from her client had still seen her consent to give him one more quick, no-nonsense, clean-up blowjob, Reimu would keep to her word – gulp down his load, fix up her clothes, collect her money, and leave – on two rather wobbly legs.
Marisa would wonder later, at no trivial length, what it was that had possessed her to sell her virginity to the same, pushy man. Was it that the knowledge of Reimu happily whoring herself out had cracked the witch’s own moral constraints, and the man had simply been available… Or was it because she had secretly wanted to ride the same cock that had been all the way inside her best friend?
There was a note of confused and seditious homosexuality in it all… even if her first sex had ended up being amazing and almost certain to leave Marisa utterly pregnant, if not for her elixirs.
That, anyhow, was a far-off, month-old cheesecake slice of a worry. More in the immediate, the Ordinary Witch had a beefcake of a boy underneath her, willing to give her restless womanhood a soothing, womb-deep massage. Tarou himself was proving an exceedingly polite therapist – for one who already had his dick inside his patient – merely soaking in the sensation of Marisa’s slick, warm pussy, and gawping at the rise-and-fall motions beneath the witch’s thin, white undershirt. Or, perhaps, following his gaze, not so much the motions, as the two conspicuous peaks visible through the fabric.
A sharp tug, and the three top buttons of the shirt gave way; and Marisa’s humble, unimposing bust was put on full, nude display. Tarou looked on in adolescent fascination as the Ordinary Witch cupped one of her tiny breasts, gathering as much tit-flesh as possible – ahead sliding her fingers up to the stiff, pink nipple, and giving it a small tweak. A clinch of sharp, familiar pleasure wrung the breath out of her chest and vised her pussy around the boy’s hard cock.
There was an old, hopeful anecdote, whispered among girls in town, claiming the smaller a girl’s breasts, the more sensitive they were to touch. Marisa, never having been bigger (or, really, smaller), could attest to a mere half of that story. Without a doubt, her breasts were small – and, without a doubt, they were sensitive. A few minutes’ worth of kneading her puppies and pinching their erect nipples could make Marisa cream herself with no additional titillation – something which a certain town herbalist had been surprised (and not a little gratified) to learn earlier in the week. Whether the same held true for bigger tits, say, Reimu’s… was a matter Marisa wasn’t near gay enough to investigate.
With her hands on her own tingling breasts, the Ordinary Witch grinned up at their silent admirer.
“Mm… See somethin’ you like?”
There was a snap of attention, and a squeezing of covetous fingers around Marisa’s hips. “… Yeah,” Tarou said, very seriously. “Yeah, I do.”
“What’s that, stud?”
“… Your breasts,” gave up the boy. “They’re… Um. They’re small, but—”
“Small, but cute,” finished Marisa. If I had a copper for every time I heard that… “Yes. That’s right. So-o? Want to fuck me while starin’ at my cute little titties?”
Tarou’s answer was a hasty, wordless, wide-eyed nod. The Ordinary Witch smiled, quit fondling her poor excuse of a bust, and snaked her hands up the boy’s broad shoulders. On those, as well as her outspread knees, Marisa slowly, gently levered up her whole petite body – enjoying, and at once regretting, the sensation of Tarou’s cock sliding out and scooping out the gooey contents of her pussy. Once she felt his glans begin to stretch her entrance, about to pop out – and her slight, perky tits were about level with his face – Marisa paused, licked her lips…
… And then dropped her hips back down on his lap.
Tarou’s long, rigid cock speared her squirming pussy with a wet, obscene squelch – its bare head thumping into her cervix with enough force to make Marisa jolt upright. Stifling a delighted squeal, the Ordinary Witch wiggled her hips to rub her sensitive areas on her boy-toy’s stiff, obliging tool. Tarou boasted no such restraint, groaning his pleasure down her chest rather without reservation. Marisa sensed his cock flex between her pussy lips, and utterly failed to resist dragging them one more time up its sloping, lubed-up length. Then, she too released her voice in a gleeful moan when the boy gripped her ass and forced it back down for a smooth, balls-deep insertion. Coconut oil, precum and pussy juice bubbled out between her clinging petals, soaking her repositioned panties and sticking her crotch to Tarou’s. Though her mouth was stuck in an ecstatic, slutty grin, her head was clear enough to move her body in concert once the boy began to slide her back and off of his throbbing erection for another thrust. Marisa leaned back, tweaking her hips – making it an absolute surety that, the next time Tarou rammed it in, the head of his hard cock would poke her G-spot and scrape the vulnerable front wall of her vagina from end to end.
And that was exactly what it did.
Tarou’s glans had no sooner peeked out from between the Ordinary Witch’s swollen labia than the boy reversed his push: sheathing his cock back inside Marisa’s waiting pussy in a single, implacable thrust. His tip, which Marisa had so smartly prepared for, hadn’t as much poked her special place… as it had smashed into it, causing every inch of her feverish walls to clamp lovingly around his shaft. Tarou gasped, swearing under his breath, when their crotches smacked together – burying Marisa’s up to the clitoris in the wiry clump of his pubes. That, earmarks were, was an unacceptable state of things; and, ahead her pussy may fully recover from the savage thrust, the boy was once more hauling it up the slickened length of its new favourite cock. Unable to resist the allure – or, perhaps, because the witch’s vagina was stubbornly holding onto every departing inch – Tarou raised a hand… and then brought it down, sharply, on Marisa’s bubbly rear.
Gravity conspired with surprise, and the sound of her butt being slapped hadn’t quit ringing in her ears when it was joined by that of the same butt smacking into Tarou’s thighs. Marisa hissed with throaty, feminine indulgence as the boy’s manhood slipped balls-deep back inside her perfectly matching hole. Surrender came mushy and sweet, tilting her forward to recline on the boy’s tough, masculine chest. Marisa’s bared nipples scuffed up and down its rough skin when Tarou hoisted her butt up once more, withdrawing two thirds of his slippery erection – before letting Marisa’s pussy drop and eat it back up. This time, his glans and veiny underside rode all along her rear wall – producing an entirely new sensation which left her belly taut with carnal joy.
The Ordinary Witch, throwing caution to the wind, buried her small nose in the boy’s chest, and sucked in a deep lungful of his smell: a heady bouquet of sweat, sex and pure maleness that had her head reeling from the potency – and her horny body yield all over in submission. Gosh, she managed to think, if I could bottle this up, somewise…
That money-winning idea was ejected together with her breath upon Tarou’s next thrust, which saw his cock-head wriggle between and part her squeezing walls at an unexpected, slanting angle. The precocious boy was jostling her hips, bent on leaving no corner of her pussy unexplored. His long fingers dug into the meat of her butt-cheeks: groping, spreading them out, exposing Marisa’s other hole to the room’s tepid air. All the while, his work-hardened arms kept lifting her ass, then lowering it back onto his thick manhood, with little apparent regard for Marisa’s opinion or consent.
Marisa voiced them both: in a low, purring moan which would have told everything, had the boy but paid attention to her upper mouth as well as he did to her lower.
Tarou-boy growled his reply – penetrating her four more wonderful times ahead he threw a leash around his urge to keep fucking the helpless, unresisting witch. Then, and not before, did he allow Marisa the opportunity to speak unhindered… though how unhindered was a matter for debate when his stiff cock was sheathed to the hilt in her trembling pussy, and his hands were locking her hips in a hold which the dainty witch would need to fight very hard to escape. If she could escape at all.
The thought made her thrill up to the roots of her hair.
Marisa, tittering, craned her head and gave the boy a mocking look. “… Soo forceful,” she teased. “Where’d y’get off to treatin’ a girl like that, Tarou boy? Slidin’ her up and down your cock like she’s some kind of toy…”
“… Sorry,” murmured the boy. “Was that… er, not good?”
“You kiddin’? It was the best,” purred Marisa. “When y’moved me by yourself like that? I loved that. Many girls would never tell ya, but… Gettin’ taken by force – and by a stud like you, no less? That’s the sorta fantasy keeps us awake at night.”
“You too, miss Marisa?”
“Mmmhm,” cooed the witch. “Clever boy. Yup. Can’t count the evenin’s I’d waste sticking my fingers inside myself, thinking ‘bout a cake like you just… bargin’ into my home, shoving me up against a wall, pullin’ down my bloomers and screwin’ me from behind ‘til my legs give out and he has to truss me up. No talk, no nonsense. Just meetin’ and humpin’, like animals in the wild. Speeeaking of—” Marisa freed one of the boy’s shoulders to trace a finger in a circle around his left nipple. It was as stiff from arousal as both her own. “… Weren’t you? Going to fuck me like that Tengu bitch?”
Tarou spat a brief, derisive laugh. “I was,” he assured her. “I was, miss Marisa. Only then, when you showed me your breasts… well, was plain you needed that treatment right away.”
As if, you lil’ perv, Marisa thought. “Mm, yeah,” she granted out loud. “It was really gettin’ worse by the minute.”
“Is it better now?” asked Tarou… and began to pull up her hips.
The Ordinary Witch had but to peek up and into the boy’s eyes to see the newly forged confidence behind them. And then, with another, insidious thrill, she knew what kind of surprise lay in store for her slowly emptying pussy. So, she bit back her reply – until at least half of Tarou’s sizeable manhood had worked its way past her hugging, greedy labia.
“Mm, well,” she started answering, “it’s slightly bettnnghhfffuck!”
And the answer flew away when Tarou drove her back down, cramming her pussy full of hard cock once again. Marisa hadn’t quit gasping and squirming ahead the boy’s hands wrapped around her ass-cheeks and ground her waist harder into his. There was an eager, happy throb, which Marisa soon shared, when his glans began to rub up against the entrance of her womb. Tarou’s fingers clutched her butt – nudging it back and forth, left and right, causing his entire length to shift and touch all the different areas of her vagina. Marisa melted into his arms, her breath shallow – soft, girly moans squeezing out of her throat whenever the boy’s sturdy cock kissed a better spot than most. And then – a louder, more mature one when Tarou drew her up for another thrust.
“Nhhgoodnesss,” Marisa whined as he slowly sank his hard-on inside her. “Why are you… Why so good at this, Tarou-boy? You’re just a boy!”
Tarou waited for his cock-head to be firmly pressed against the witch’s cervix before admitting, “… I may have lied.”
“Nnh. Mm… Where’d that be?”
“Well. That Tengu lady?” he wheezed. “She, um… She may have given me pointers.”
Marisa giggled. “You two lovers or somethin’? You fuck on the regular?”
Tarou’s reply was an unthinking snigger. “I wi— er, I mean,” he corrected himself, “um, no. She really did do kidnap me. Once I was out of my clothes, though – turned out, she could be a lot nicer. Maybe needed reassurance, is all.”
“Or a nice, young cock up her cunt, hmm?”
“… Yeah,” admitted the boy. “Yeah. After I put it inside her, she got really… um, sweet. A—As sweet as a youkai can be, anyhow. Got all… kissy and stuff.”
“Want me to be sweet on you, Tarou-boy?”
Shinnying up on her knees, her bare nipples scraping up the boy’s chest, with sinuous, seductive grace, Marisa levelled her face with his. Tarou’s cock slipped free of her warm womanhood, prompting a twitch of disappointment from both its owner and its receiver. An outpour of coconut oil, precum and vaginal fluid opened in its wake. It sloshed down on Tarou’s standing length like a copious, syrupy female orgasm. The strapping young man hadn’t fully worked his mouth open to grouse when the Ordinary Witch sealed it under her own. Tarou startled – squeezed her butt – and then, with enthusiasm becoming his age, he began to kiss back. He proved an apt kisser for said age: clumsy, much too eager, and a complete stranger to moderation – sucking on Marisa’s small tongue like a lollipop one moment, only to stuff his own entirely into her mouth in the next. Almost, and he would have reminded her of someone else, not too long ago. Answering youth with mature restraint, Marisa coddled the pushy tongue with her soft lips: gently fellating the root with tiny back-and-forth motions while it discovered what a witch’s mouth tasted like inside. Not kava and cock, this time – to the boy’s likely relief.
There was a grunt of straining patience, and a distinct sensation of one of the boy’s hands disengaging from Marisa’s firm buttocks. There was a thrill of anticipation when she felt him align himself with her entrance and his tip spread apart her dripping petals. Tarou retracted his tongue, swallowing, and then pressed his lips flat against the witch’s in what seemed a rather innocent sort of kiss, for what was happening below. Smooth as nothing, the top half of his erection sank between her yielding walls at the merest onset of pressure from his other hand. Tarou kept the kiss going, leaning forward, bending the petite witch backwards, as their groins slid closer and closer together. Marisa squeaked, eyes rolling back in their sockets, as the boy’s hard penis was returned fully where it belonged. None too soon, she was being kissed both above and below – Tarou’s tongue busying her mouth, while her squirming pussy was filled top to bottom by his thick, manly tool.
That alone, however, could never satisfy her. Yearning to be fucked – really fucked – again, the witch bucked her wide, feminine hips. Uselessly. The angle of the penetration, as well as the position in which Tarou cradled her slight body, arrested any and all attempts to move. Marisa’s hips were smushed against his – trapping her hot, discontent pussy around his still erection. And though the feeling of impotence – of being small, sexy and powerless to prevent the boy from doing her as he very well liked – was a potent tonic, it was the pure, base need to slake her female instincts and get pregnant already which overrode lengthier, more erotic scenarios.
“Nnm. Nhh. Tarou—” the witch moaned around the young man’s tongue. “Tarooou~”
Tarou, at once confirming with a grunt that he’d heard and too horny to stop so soon, continued kissing her for a long moment before pulling away – and swallowing their combined spit. “Hff. Nngh… Miss— Miss Marisa?”
The Ordinary Witch trembled at the heat and the aroused timbre of the boy’s voice. She gazed up into his eyes – wide, misty, hooked on the sensations she was selling to him in lieu of traditional after-youkai care. It made her feel immoral to her core. It made her feel like the naughtiest girl in Gensokyo. It made her want to atone in any way she might – preferably, by bearing his children. “Mnrr, Tarooou~” she moaned; “I’ll be your lover. ‘Kay? I’ll be a good girlfriend – promise. Till the end of the month, we can fuck wherever, whenever. I’ll come by at dawn an’ polish off your morning wood. Y’can stay over at my house; I’ll cook for us, and you can use me anyhow. Sex, blowjobs, handjobs, with my thighs and feet, indoors or outside… I’ll let you screw me in any position, any fashion y’like. Want me to?”
Inside her belly, all the way from her tight pussy lips to her fertile womb, Tarou’s stiff cock stiffened even harder at the promise of the cute, blond witch – Marisa Kirisame, the second-most notorious youkai hunter in Gensokyo, – serving four weeks as his personal fuck-maid. Speechless to begin with – then downright raring – Tarou wheezed his, rather predictable, reply.
“… Yeah,” he rasped. “Yes – please.”
Marisa’s chest was a-tingle with excitement as she answered. “Then—” she told him, “Then, one condition. Hear me, Tarou-boy? Jus’ one thing.”
“Cum inside me all ten times,” demanded the witch. “Ahead your parents come home an’ chew us out. Stuff me full, and I’m yours.”
Tarou’s fingers closed jealously around her ripe butt-cheeks. At the same time, his forehead wrinkled with consternation. “Um,” he managed to sound serious, “I… I don’t reckon that’s doable, miss Marisa.”
“Could you not try?”
“Oh, I will,” the boy guaranteed. “Only, I don’t reckon I can reach ten.”
Marisa, murmuring, trailed a hand down the muscular arch of the boy’s back, down to his own, athletic rear – where she mirrored his perverted gesture. “… Six?” she proposed.
“It’s not really a matter of haggling.”
“Then what of, boy?”
“Uh. Only human… miss.”
A feather made of annoyance tickled up the inside of Marisa’s trembling, needy body. “Oh yeah?” she challenged. “A human who’s screwed a Tengu, if I recall. Without lying, stud – how many loads did you pump into the bitch, really? ‘Fore she let you tuck up your pants and go home?”
Such a direct line of questioning had never occurred in the young man’s trench-like worldview. From shock, through shame, Tarou’s expression at last settled into a nice, if poorly managed, look of contrition. “… Two,” he surrendered. “It was two. I did her once, came inside how she wanted, asked if I may leave, but… then, she knocked me flat on my behind and started licking me clean. ‘Time she was done, I… er, I was right back up. So, she got on top of me, and we went second round. Talked me all the way through, too – how to hit her good places, how to last longer… O—Once she did cum, though,” he insisted, “she really did conk out. Must’ve been way overtime. Afterwise, I, uh… I got myself off, pulled up my pants and scarpered. For real.”
I’ve not asked for a recap, thought Marisa. “… Two,” she said aloud. “Two times – for me to be your girlfriend? You drive a hard bargain, Tarou-boy.”
“Were you to be,” suggested the boy, “I could do it many, many more times. That’s a good trade, innit?”
“That’s for later,” argued Marisa. “And now? I told you, boy, I need it now. That place, where your damn cock’s rubbin’ up to? It’s going witchin’ wild. If I’ve to go home today without gettin’ pumped full, I’ll go nutty. I’m goin’ slightly, already. Get it, Tarou-boy? I. Need. Thisss.”
Contrition shifted into concern as the boy grappled with his newly-realised circumstance. “… Th—Then,” he offered, the responsibility for Marisa’s mental well-being weighty in his voice, “may we do it like I did with the Tengu lady? I’ll do you now, you can get me up again with your mouth afterwise, and we can see how many rounds I’ll go. And if my parents interrupt, I, er… I may know where to find a hay loft.”
Against all her earlier words, the prospect of taking Tarou’s spent, drug-smeared cock into her mouth and nursing it back to full mast before mounting it again crushed out all denying words. All which Marisa’s thin, suddenly wet lips may shape in response was a hoarse, eager, “Nnfffuck yes~ Let’s do that, let’s, let’s—”
… And, holding her up by the ass, boosted both her and himself off the bed. The Ordinary Witch let go of a girlish squeal, looping her arms behind his back, as Tarou carried her under the nearby wall – each bouncy step he made nudging his hard-on deeper inside her. A similar, though more disconcerted noise was squeezed out of her chest when the handsome boy extracted himself from her clinging womanhood and let her slip back to her own feet.
Marisa backed a step, less out of any wish to get away from the penis jutting out obscenely from Tarou’s groin than because the brief taste of sex had left her soft-kneed and weak all over with submission. Tarou, all silence and gorgeous muscle, hadn’t to do more than touch her hip to persuade the witch to turn around and face the wall. Marisa leaned forward, palms on the wooden panels, butt presented for the boy’s easier access. Her soaked, chiffon panties stuck to her skin as he peeled them down her plump ass and thighs. Once she felt them at her ankles, Marisa stepped out of the sexy garment, and spread her feet out wide.
All at once, she felt the insides of her thighs become runny with oil and slippery arousal. And then, once Tarou gripped one of her butt-cheeks and tweaked it to the side – more gushing out to drip on the floor. Giddier than when she’d been before her first sex, Marisa peeked back over a shoulder – in time to see the tall, ravishing boy bring his lubed-up manhood to her rear and sandwich it between the witch’s soft, natural cushions. Marisa whined under her breath, wiggling her hips – begging the boy to plug up the leak happening not five inches below. Tarou grunted his assent – grabbed his cock at the base – and dragged it down the witch’s crack, across her other hole, and down to the drooling entrance of her pussy. And then, no sooner than he felt out the opening, he pushed himself back inside.
Marisa’s velvety walls clenched around the entering cock-head, stripping it bare, as if trying to get (and give) the most out of the insertion, as it began its slow, sensual journey up to her baby-room. Inch after inch of Tarou’s young, hard cock slid into the witch’s tight pussy, with the help of both her hips being used as leverage. Already halfway to an orgasm, thighs quaking beneath her, it was all Marisa could do to clamp her jaw and keep herself from squirting then and there from the sensation of the boy’s shaft slowly sinking into and dominating her womanhood. A few torturous, amazing moments later, and the head of Tarou’s penis was once again kissing up with the mouth of her womb – the entire, veiny shaft stowed safely inside the witch’s tender vagina.
And Marisa was, at long last, living out the fantasy of getting fucked just like Reimu, that day she had first found out her best friend was sucking dicks for money. This was it. Stuck up against a wall, taken from behind like a bitch in heat, panties on the floor, tits hanging out of her open shirt… Sans, perhaps, those tits dangling like watermelons in a net, the witch had finally drawn even with the shrine maiden’s vulgar habits.
Tarou sweetened it all by leaning forward, placing a hand atop one of Marisa’s – pinning it to the wall – while slinging the other under the witch’s nude belly. His work-toughened fingers probed along the tense area above where the tip of his robust erection was playing footsies with her cervix.
“… Miss Marisa?”
His voice tickled the witch’s right earlobe from behind, causing her upper body to shudder in surprise – and not a little pleasure. “… Nyah— Yeah? What…?”
“If you stand a lil’ straighter,” said Tarou, “I’ll hit a good place when I put it in.”
“… That someth’n ya Tengu bitch told you?” tittered Marisa.
“Yeah.” He said it without hesitation.
The Ordinary Witch bit down on a lip. “… You blasted youkai-fucker—”
And then, scrambled to do as he had advised once she sensed his hips withdraw from her butt. It was difficult to move with any degree of control while the ridge of Tarou’s glans was scraping and scooping out her sensitive folds, but, somewise, she managed to shuffle her feet closer together and slightly right her back. The precocious boy – whose chin still hovered way above, even in this position – paused with his cock nearly all the way out, save for the witch’s pussy lips wrapped around the head.
“Tell me if I hit it,” he requested. “Yeah?”
And then, barely as Marisa had breathed in to reply, he drove his waist forward, hilting his manhood inside her woefully sensitive pussy.
A rich, womanly cry tore out of the witch’s immature chest – and not because of the suddenness of the insertion. The Tengu bitch had known how to get fucked. At this angle, almost upright, butt thrust out, when the boy’s hard-on had slipped inside her, its tip had rammed straight into her neglected G-spot before being redirected up toward her womb. Moreover, the rest of his long manhood – the entire, bumpy underside – then rode along the same path: grinding into and against the orgasmic spot, until bottomed out. Marisa breathed out explosively, her pussy quaking and her stomach juddering from stimulation. A less-than-brilliant thought intruded on her racing mind that it was maybe this why Reimu, too, had opted to get fucked in the same way. Once more, it seemed now, the Ordinary Witch had underestimated her slut of a rival.
No thought of being yet again shown up by Reimu, however, could spoil the climax building up between Marisa’s thighs. Tarou had needed no more confirmation that his Tengu partner had spoken the truth; releasing Marisa’s hand, he again seized her wobbly hips, holding them still while he extracted his long manhood – fresh pussy juice dribbling out after every inch pulled free. Then, giving the pervert witch no quarter, he pushed it back in. The Ordinary Witch moaned like a virgin discovering sex all anew – the prolonged assault on her weakest spot jabbing her fingernails into the wood of the wall, and making her rise on her tiptoes. Much as she had loved simply being crammed full of the boy’s handsome dick, that felt no more than foreplay now, beside the same dick blithely thrusting in and out while stumbling all over her best spots. Tarou, too, was enjoying the fast, unprotected sex – each slap of his hips against Marisa’s bubbly ass eliciting a grunt of satisfaction, and each spasm of her hot pussy – a small, unmanly groan.
It was, all in all, hopeless. In no time at all, the orgasm, which had begun when Marisa had first slipped her pussy down the boy’s impressive erection, had swelled beyond the stopping point. With the last of her self-control, Marisa peered back at the ruddy, breathless boy, who looked little better for wear than herself.
“Nhh— Tarou, Tarooou~” she managed to squeak. “Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum~”
A flash of incredulity briefly sharpened the boy’s gaze. “Fuck— Already?”
Tarou cursed at volume – something the witch could no more decipher from the buzz in her ears anyway – grasped her right leg at the thigh, and hiked it up to his waist – all but topping the witch to the floor. Marisa teetered forward, falling flat against the wall, yelping in helpless fright as the boy pinned her to it with his sheer body mass. All of her protests were silenced the following moment – when the boy plunged his cock, from slippery head to hairy base, into her overworked pussy. And though this new, shallower angle of insertion merely snagged the special place he had been ramming down before, the doubled pace at which he speared her shivering walls now brought her to a long-desired orgasm all the same.
“Ta—” she whined, “Tarooou, I’m cumhhh—”
“I know!” groaned Tarou—
—And shoved his hard, palpitating manhood all the way into the witch’s creaming pussy.
A powerful throb presaged the boy’s semen bursting out and into Marisa’s dangerously ready baby room. It was all she could enjoy of the contentious creampie ahead her own climax smashed aside all feelings but that of overwhelming, numbing pleasure. Shivering, clenching her teeth, the Ordinary Witch hung her head – much as her best friend had, way back – and endured the ecstatic fits shooting up her body from that one, most sensitive area.
Tumbling down her nude front, Marisa’s golden eyes caught the sight of her partner – still trussing her up by the same thigh, and still keeping himself buried to the hilt inside her writhing pussy. Vaguely, and not without a jolt of alarmed excitement, she realised he, too, was still coming – and that each contraction of his swollen manhood meant another spurt of hot, potent semen flooding her fertile womb. A boy of no more than seventeen – and Marisa Kirisame, she who was supposed to care for his spiritual wounds, was instead creaming herself around his youthful cock, while he got her unavoidably, irresponsibly pregnant. It was the most amoral, flighty and reckless thing the Ordinary Witch had done to date.
And it was the absolute best.
All done knocking her up, Tarou tugged his half-withered penis out of the witch’s clammy depths. Not one, milky drop chased his departing length; not even when the boy stepped away, and watched Marisa attempt to stand upright on her own. Nor, the witch knew, would it. His seed would remain safe and cosy in her womb until she pushed him on the bed, got him all hard again, and started to bounce her hips up and down atop him – like a certain, slutty shrine maiden Marisa could put a name to. And then, the clueless boy would get a whole another school of slimy cock massage.
Afterglow was shunted aside when their stares met – understanding passing between them through body language alone. Tarou collapsed on the bed, while the witch retrieved the oil flask from her kit. What little of it had remained poured nicely over the boy’s limping manhood. Scents of coconut and kava suffused the room’s air with renewed force, all but masking that of male sweat and female arousal. It made Marisa salivate… and her tummy itch all over again.
The Ordinary Witch tossed the flask and knelt between the young man’s legs, drawing her blond hair behind her ears, ready and willing to prove, above all else, that she could give just as good of a blowjob as her orally-fixated best friend. Tarou’s penis, bolstered by the tonic (which Marisa would soon, inevitably, be imbibing herself) had already quit shrinking – and even tensed in anticipation as the witch caught it by the oil-slick base, and dipped her head to slide her warm lips around its crown.
And then, it outright jumped – when the tell-tale sound of a key being turned in a door downstairs reverberated throughout the house.
“So, then,” Marisa wrapped up her write-up, “I tells them the salve should be ‘nuff, but if they notice somethin’, well… Sure as the lightnin’, two days later – that is, today – the lad’s dad finds me at the market an’ asks me to come by again.”
Reimu eyed her over the steaming, clayware tea-cup. “You botched the ward?”
Marisa ventured a shrug – as much of one as her own cup would allow. “Who knows? Said nothin’ but that his boy needed another session. Haven’t been by; like as not will tomorrow.”
“Sloppy,” insisted her best friend, and took a long sip.
“Maaaybe,” granted Marisa. “Gods know that boy’s a hunk. Could’ve gotten distracted…”
There was a world of suspicion – mostly confirmed – in Reimu’s replying look. Yet, the shrine maiden made no comment. Only busied at her tea – as though the Ordinary Witch reportedly failing an art she had been polishing for years and years was nothing to warrant one.
Yup, thought Marisa. She can tell.
Though she had mentioned nothing beyond rubbing the salve into the boy’s broad back; though she slipped not a peep of then rolling him around to pour the rest over his naked crotch, Reimu had to know. How little Marisa had told made Reimu’s absence of inquest all the more telling.
And then, there were parts of the scene which Marisa wished she could hide even from herself. How she and Tarou had scrabbled for their clothes the heartbeat they had heard his parents returning. How the witch dove for her discarded panties, only to then pull them up her slippery legs. How the stud Tarou had positively dived into his underwear – ahead lying down on his stomach and suggesting, at a furtive hiss, that the witch pretend to be lathering his back still. And though the ruse had been successful on the surface, and they had been treated to no imputing remarks beyond the good-humoured – all the same, having to explain the treatment to Tarou’s father, while his adolescent son’s cum was sloshing in her womb, had been more than sobered-up Marisa could bear. And it was why, despite her horny promises, once she had come home that evening and chugged down a decanter of contraceptive tincture, Marisa had thoroughly cured herself of the thought of having sex with the handsome boy again.
Or, she thought she had. Until today.
A nervous, expectant tingle squeezed her thighs together. Marisa un-squeezed them just as soon, remembering where she was – drinking tea with Reimu on the shrine’s veranda; anyhow, the shrine maiden seemed not to notice, or care in the least. In fact, Reimu seemed a touch abstracted altogether, and nearly jolted to attention when Marisa spoke next.
“So? Got anythin’ curious yourself?”
Reimu set down her cup, propping her chin on one palm in that bored way she had. “… Kitsune attack,” she sighed. “Some kind of prank? Curse? Going tomorrow, so we’ll see.”
Now were Marisa’s brows fully perked up. “Older man?” she asked. “Can’t decide whether to leap ‘im or go around? Chortles like a frog?”
Her best friend peeked at her sidelong. “You know the guy?”
Do I, the witch sneered inside. “Friend of my father’s,” she said, with a fan of the hand. “Sounds t’ me, that kitsune’s up to old tricks again, huh. Well now.”
Reimu cocked her head. “Oh? Some youkai serial felon I haven’t heard about?”
Marisa made no comment on it. An idea was hatching in the cleverer part of her imagination – never mind the lewd one.
It made little matter, in the end, who went to mend the ward Marisa had, in Reimu’s view of things, botched. There was no façade thick enough between them to screen the truth that the “treatments” and “cares” weren’t for the people of the Human Village – but, in the main, for themselves. Whether for the money, or to have an itch scratched, their business was nothing if not their own. Competition, such as it was, existed solely between the two of them … if not exclusively in Marisa’s head. It was only that: two young, overbusy women, taking back what years they had lost, never experiencing the lower things in life. And even if Marisa had a creeping hunch they weren’t entirely on their own volition, and that the lingering influence the animal spirits had on their bodies had to be examined soon or late…
… If it gave her something in which to challenge her best friend and rival, Marisa Kirisame was happy to put it off. Who took which call for “aid,” therefore, was without consequence; and, since both of the men discussed had given Marisa’s body something to remember them by, she was not beneath giving the younger stud a nice surprise, and the older crook – a nasty scare.
And so, grinning, Marisa addressed her slutty friend once more.
“… Say, Reimu,” the Ordinary Witch said sweetly. “… Wanna trade?”